


Nightmare Remedy

by numbika



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 17:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14117409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbika/pseuds/numbika
Summary: The Patrician had a nightmare.





	Nightmare Remedy

**Author's Note:**

> I was drunk and sad, and I needed some gay-fluff. So here we are.

The Patrician glanced over the half written diplomatic letter resting in front of him. It was almost finished. Usually the writing of these kind of letters was a light morning activity for him. Today on the other hand, he felt himself utterly frustrated. The letter was half written for over an hour, which meant two discarded and reworked drafts longer than it usually did. He dropped the quill on the table and placed his chin into his hands.  
He knew that the reason why he worked slower than he wanted was because of his unpleasant awakening. Of course no hypothetical observer could have seen the difference – aside from the Commander and Drumknott- in his behaviour. But it was there. On this morning Havelock was unable to eat all his breakfast, the bags under his eyes were deeper than usual, and even the shapes of his letters were a little off.  
He grudgingly took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The efforts to shut out the pictures from his dreams were so fair, in vain. They always found him, pushing themselves into the front of his consciousness.  
And with these pictures, came the feelings, feelings that before he was able to control.  
An average day, an average problem, but a trigger pulled at the wrong time. There was no blood, and nobody to notice what happened from the faceless crowd. Sergeant Colon and Nobby Nobs might have been there, or maybe only the captain, he couldn’t tell. But he remembered Sam, as clear as day. He laid faced down on the cobbles and didn’t breathe. But the worst thing was that he was unable to speak. He was unable to tell all those things he desperately wanted to that wayward, overly righteous, sarcastic idiot, whom he loved.  
He awoke clutching the edges of his blanket, shaking. On his back the clothes were drenched in his sweat.  
Vetinari made another sigh, and slowly opened his eyes.  
'And one would have thought that you can grow out from these kinds of things.'  
A couple of knocks pulled him out from his thoughts. Drumknott waited a couple of seconds and then stepped in.  
'Good morning, my lord.'  
'Ah, good morning Drumknott.' The Patrician stood up and slowly walked in front of the window. He glanced over the buildings outside, but inside, his feelings and logical mind were in a bloody battle. In the last years, the feelings were decidedly forced into the background, but now they returned, and they were not to be denied any more. This dream was an evil tool of theirs to corner the logical mind and keep it under control for a little while.  
'I will be out of the palace for the next one hour or so. 'Said the Patrician in the end. 'Anybody who want to meet with me in regards of some kind matter, should wait until I return.' Vetinari grabbed his walking stick and left the room, stepping aside of his clerk.  
'The coach is ready, my lord.'  
The Patrician glanced towards Drumknott from the edge of his eyes. He left his gaze on him for a couple of seconds, but in the end, he decided on a small nod.  His feelings still held a tight leash on his logic to do anything else.

Inside Pseudopolis Yard the usual teeming of life, and general grumpiness reigned supreme. As different races joined the Watch one after other, their prejudices against each other also slowly dissipated. Or at least within the confines of the Watch. Anyone who didn’t behaved after Vimes shouted at him like:  
  
"How the hell you can't at least stood straight? Nobody cares if you are a dwarf or a troll, as long as you are not a vampire since I don’t like those,  while you have a badge you are the member of the watch and you will damn well act like it!" was convinced by Captain Carots kind and easy to understood style when he said: "Those at home will be so proud of you to join us! You will be a symbol of the troll or dwarf community! We need a lot of dependable citizen like you in the watch." that arguing about races were useless and stupid waste of money and energy.

Of course, some civilians still sent letters, especially those who had too much time on their hand, most of them likely didn’t have anything else that bring joy to their life than writing these things every day. Still, even those became rarer by the day. There was only about five per day nowadays. The commander tried to find some kind of pattern in these letters, but he was unable to find any evidence to validate his conspiracy theories about a secret society of nobles, existing solely to write these letters about the bloodthirsty trolls, dwarfs, or undead, out to get the populace.

He grumbled slowly while organising his papers, and one or two of them landed in the waste bin. Sometimes he took the time to glance towards the green monstrosity sitting on his plate. It didn’t contain any kind of meat or at least a little fat to moisten the bread. You have to live healthier, said Carott once, when he fainted from the constant all-nighters, and coffee diet. From that point on he had to eat one whole salad sandwich every morning, and his luck were running out. He was afraid that if the waste magic from the University reaches his office, or there is going to be some mystical accident, then the zombies of the plants would crawl out from the nooks and crannies he stuffed them into and attack him.  
Sam, smiling a bit under his nose turned towards the opening door. He never even noticed the noises dying down in the yard.  
'Good Morning Commander. 'Vetinari slowly closed the door behind him and walked closer.  
'Good morning, my lord.' The commander blinked a couple of times. 'What do I owe this sudden visit?'

_Well? What do he owe this visit to?!_ The logic could speak for a split second, before the feelings of the Patrician grabbed hold of it again.

'I am just…' Started Vetinari and then his gaze landed on the table. ' Oh, trying to eat healthy Sir Samuel?'  
Vimes made a small shrug with a grumpy expression.  
'Every single one of my man is watching what I eat in the morning. A man can trust no one in this day and age.' He slowly shook his head, but there was a small smile under his nose.  
'Perhaps are you going to stop smoking the cigars too?'  
'Only through my dead thoroughly cigar smoked body!' The answer was swift and emotional. Vetinari couldn’t help but feel some kind of calm from it. The feelings and the logic were in a small argument during that time which could be summarised thusly: We should really go now, that way it wouldn’t be so obvious that we came here, we have to do _something else_.  
The patrician cleared his throat.  
'Well the good health…' But he became silent again.  
Vimes stood up, stepping closer to him. 'Is everything all right?'  
Vetinari looked into the eyes of the commander, and for a heartbeat they remained there, silent.  
'Havelock?'  
Vimes shuddered as their lips touched. As he held the man close to himself, he slowly relaxed between his arms and he didn’t let go until he did.  
'Yes, everything is all right.' Vetinari touched his forehead against his, and a small smile spread trough his face.  The dream was replaced by reality, and his feelings and thoughts were at ease. 'I have to say, its much more pleasant to kiss you like this, compared to when you chug a mug of asphalt you call coffee'  
Sam gave a small hiss. 'Well then, maybe I am going to put it into my diet more frequently. ' He had a slight blush which made Vetinaris smile that much wider. He kissed the embarrassed commander again.  
'Thank you.' He hugged the neck of the commander with his arms. ' My hard-headed copper.  
'That’s true.' Vimes nudged him with his hips. 'Did you come here to talk about obvious facts? Bec-'  
Another kissed shut him up, and Vetinari didn’t let him get away from his closeness for the rest of the day. For one day, he let his feelings get their way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the reading, I hope u like it.  
> Have a nice day!


End file.
